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The Light



The wavering light seems to be calling to us with the green breath of Love.

She moves like her mother, her glitter rounding the bend long after she’s passed, her breath tickling my throat that’s hunched in wait as I seek the next meal and offer my hand for the next dance with the shadow spirit come to watch me dig in the gutter for food.

I glimpse her in the child that comes to play from time to time, eyes beaming with curiosity, small hands thrumming the floor of heaven.

The glancing light is best to show who I am, the vivid beams are for who I’ve become.

Choose.

Light my way back to me or light me back to my former beast, either way, I’m on this journey home. When I arrive, I hope to see you there, with your hopeful whispers in my throat, an undying Love still etched inside your smile.

I get a glimpse of the self when I love. It’s nice to see you, too…


© 2011 by mark prime

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